


Street Lights / Stage Lights

by starfishsquish



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: "unrequited" love, (It's heathers. The musical is heathers.), Actor! Lance, Alternate Universe - Theatre, Bisexual Lance (Voltron), F/F, FIRST FIC WOOO WISH ME LUCK, Guns, Hacker! Keith, He doesn't know what to Do with these actual feelings, Keith and Shiro are Adoptive Siblings, Lance (Voltron) is a Mess, Lance also used to be a porn star so, M/M, Major Character Almost Death, No Lotor here !!! No !!!!, Nsfw is more implied than anything, Pidge is also a hacker, Pining Keith (Voltron), Pining! Lance (Voltron), Polyamory in galra generals, Thats a lot of tags, Theatre AU, Trans Female Pidge | Katie Holt, Trans Male Character, Trans! Lance (Voltron), Transgender Lance, gayyy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-30
Updated: 2018-03-30
Packaged: 2018-10-12 21:14:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10499601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starfishsquish/pseuds/starfishsquish
Summary: You can tell a lot about someone by how they play a role.





	1. Act One.

**Author's Note:**

> My first Voltron Fic! And my first fic on here at all. And my first fic for two years. Wow. Enjoy!

_Act one, scene one: Rehearsals. Lance is talking on the role of Jason Dean in the song 'fight for me.'_

  
_You can tell a lot about someone by how they take on a role._

  
In this case, Lance had been given the role of an unsympathetic bastard, and made him act soft.  
"Lance, we've been over this. You can't act kind. And you can't act aggressive just yet," Shiro sighed. The director was starting to get sick of his bullshit. "Have you ever heard of being 'passive aggressive? That's JD. And as far as you're concerned right now, you are JD."  
Lance laughed. It was fake, but that wasn't obvious. Faking it in some way had always been his job. He took his gun (fake too, and obviously so. it was just a stand in, to help him get in character,) and aimed it at Shiro. Before he could make a joke, he got a glare from Nyma, who was looking… pretty hot in red. Not the actual costume, but she said it helped her get in character.   
You can tell a lot about someone by how they take on a role.  
Well, Lance had known Nyma for a few years now, since they'd worked together at Lance's old job. She really didn't have to act much to play supreme bitch, Heather Chandler.  
Lance put his 'gun' away, and mumbled an apology to Shiro. Rehearsals were always wild.

The rest went okay. He totally slayed 'freeze your brain' and nearly cried during 'meant to be' yours, and definitely freaked out the poor girl playing Veronica.   
He was pretty lucky having this roll. People who played JD were typically white, pale, and cis. He was none of those. No one had informed Veronica, apparently, who seemed slightly disturbed at his lack of dick in 'Dead Girl Walking.' It was almost funny. But god, Lance was tired. Hunk wasn't on set the whole time, and he felt kind of... Alone without him.

He picked up some Chinese food on his way home, ending up waiting in the chair next to someone from set. She was small, with short, choppy hair, haphazardly shoved back with a headband. She was immersed in a video in her phone, but Lance, being the extrovert he was, extended a hand anyway.  
"You work on special effects at the Garrison theatre, yeah...? I'm Lance."   
She looked up. She was tired, as everyone there was, and her glare was piercing as a million needles. "Pidge. I know who you are, you pointed a gun at Shiro."  
"It wasn't a real gun!"  
"So? You scared him."  
"How do you know..?"  
She rolled her eyes, giving an entertained smirk. “That’s for me to know and you to find out.”  
Lance decided he liked this kid.

 

_Act one, scene two: a dark room. The only writing was from the computer and from the street lights streaming in the window. Keith is hunched over his laptop, Pidge's_   
_back pressed against his own, though it was nothing romantic. The heating was broken, and they had not fixed it yet._

"You got anything?" Keith looked over her shoulder. She didn't. "How much coffee have you had?"  
"At least eight coffee." They laughed, like they made the funniest joke in the world. "My mind's still on the set. I met this guy--"   
"Aren't you a lesbian?"  
"-- That you'd think was cute."  
"Oh."  
She opened a window on their own laptop, and typed in the phrase "lance mclajn" into google.   
Did you mean: Lance McClain?  
sbd swore at the computer. "Of course I did, you fucking dickwad..."  
She clicked on this 'Lance's' Wikipedia page. It was mostly empty, apparently he'd acted in a couple indie movies, and a little Shakespeare. Keith didn't really know what that meant, but he knew Lance was cute.  
Keith had worked enough for the day. He minimised the hopefully important information, which he'd totally charge for anyway, and searched up Lance. The dude didn't have much of an identity. It didn't even say his age, but Keith was a hacker for God's sake. He could easily find out more.

He saved the photo of Lance's face, and reverse searched it, finding both his Twitter, Instagram, and a few more selfies. He wasn't usually one to just stalk social media, but if that did the job… Oh.

Keith was not going to get much sleep tonight.

_End act one._


	2. Act Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith realises he's falling in love before he's even met the guy.

Act _two, scene one: Keith’s apartment. It is four days later, and Keith’s laptop has been duct taped shut._

Keith had learned so many t Jihings in the past four days.   
Keith could get a little (a lot) obsessive over little things.  
Keith was also really, really great at tracing someone’s online footprint.  
Lance Sanchez-McClain was a lot more than met the eye, and not entirely in a good way.  
It was possible to fall for someone even if you've never met them.

Keith wasn't in love, of course not. He hadn't even met this Lance guy. But he did know a lot about him. And had seen pictures of him, good and bad, from ages 13-20. He'd seen his vent posts on twitter, both public, private, and deleted. He had even watched some (most) of the videos from his porn channel (which sounds creepy, but it’s not, okay? Keith was just fascinated with him. He wanted to consume everything this man was in.). He'd stood up for him in several angry Internet debates about why “someone like Blue” was in the ‘gay’ tag, ready to defend him with his life.   
He didn't love Lance, but he felt like he knew him better than he knew himself.

He'd spent fifty-six hours straight on his laptop. He didn't even get any of his “work” done, and he was being paid big money for it, even if it was by a sketchy probably criminal looking for government information that wasn't that hard to get, which was why Pidge taped his laptop shut until he could work properly. Pidge’s face was so irritatingly amused as she told him, “You don't get this back until you get over Lance or get under him, if you know what I'm sayin’.”

Keith would have to hold a funeral for his poor laptop, because both of those options were definately impossible.

  
_Act two, scene one: Backstage. It's opening night, and Hunk is fussing over Lance’s costume. Backstage is bustling, buzzing with seemingly a thousand hushed voices._

“Your coat isn't hanging right!”  
“It's not?”   
“No! It's supposed to reach your knees!”  
“Hunk, it doesn't matter.”  
“What is someone important is in the audience and they notice? My costuming career will be over!”  
“Hunk! You'll be fine, it doesn't matter, no one will notice.  
“But--”

The lights dimmed, and Shiro told them all to shut up and get on stage. The only noise the audience was supposed to hear was the chorus and the orchestra. Shiro tended to give the orchestra special treatment, since his husband was part of it. The music started, and Lance took a deep breath, listening to every word, waiting for his cue.

“September First, 1989. Dear diary….”

You could tell a lot about someone by how they take on a role.

Lance had discovered Veronica’s real name was Luxia. She was… Interesting. Her Veronica had more edge to her voice, more spunk in her walk. She shaped after Heather Chandler, and honestly, Lance didn't care for it.  
Before Lance knew it, his scenes flew by. He scanned the audience in his songs, his eyes catching on a boy with dark hair, and dark eyes, and a soft smile on his lips, almost as if he was proud. Lance smiled, just softly at him, then silently cursed himself for breaking character. He'd have to find him after the play was over. Lance was never someone to ignore a pretty face.

_Act two, scene three: The outside of the theatre is bustling with bodies and voices, laughter and excitement in the air. Lance stands on the steps, chasing after the black haired man he had seen in the audience._

“Hey!”   
Keith turned around, one foot already out the theatre door. JD seemed to be smiling at him, and beckoning him over. It took a few seconds for him to realise that it was Lance, his Lance. Keith waved, as though greeting an old friend, and moved towards him.  
Lance smiled, and extended a hand. Keith’s heart fluttered, but he shook it.   
“You did really well,” Keith mumbled, gaze downcast.  
Lance gave a dazzling smile, and laughed. “Thanks! You know, you kinda caught my eye…”  
He blushed at the other boy, who he noted was taller, with softer looking skin than photos let on. “Really…? Thank you.”  
“I'm gonna head down to the bar, you wanna come with? My shout.”  
“What?”  
“I’m buying…?”  
Keith smiled softly. “Sure. You're on.”

_Act two, scene four: Lance and Keith had gone for drinks. They are sitting at a bar in a restaurant near the theatre. Lance is already kind of drunk. Keith is trying to stay sober, though he isn't doing a good job. The conversation is giggly and flirty, and there's so much chemistry it may as well be a high school science lab._

_Lance snorted, and glanced up at Keith, grinning at his own joke. Keith was certainly cuter up close. His hair caught the light, making it shine, and his eyes were a deep purple colour. He gently touched Keith’s lip, his head spinning. “You're stunning. Did you know that?”_   
_It was a line he'd used a billion times, though this time it had more depth. From what Lance had seen, Keith was more than just stunning physically. His personality had hooked Lance when they'd only shared a few sentences. Keith looked at him with such knowing, such utter adoration that Lance felt like he was a teen again, on a date with someone who'd been his best friend for years, and had finally made the move to ask him out. It made Lance’s head spin. Keith was so genuine. Keith was so easy to talk to. Keith made him so happy._   
_A tiny smile was across his lips. His head was tilted like an intrigued cat. Keith was the most endearing date he'd had in years._   
_Lance realised he already had feelings for Keith, and he hated it._

  
Keith’s face flushed. Lance was being so tender with him, so soft. He had to admit, he was much prettier in person. He had a billion freckles across his nose, like stars, and his eyes gleamed with humour. His smile made Keith’s heart flutter.  
Keith wasn't in love, no. Keith hadn't fallen in love yet. He'd just tripped. He still needed to hit the ground.   
Lance smiled softly, and stroked his cheek. His hands were soft, gentle. His eyes were filled with affection. Keith wanted to believe he'd be seeing them more.   
Next thing he knew, soft lips were against his own.   
Lance had kissed him. And he’d kissed him back. Hands were weaving through his hair, and as his eyes closed, the lips trailed down his neck. The hands trailed down his waist. The lips parted from his skin, and one hand cupped his cheek. He opened his eyes, purple meeting dazzling blue.   
Again, Lance told him he was stunning. His words were heavy with those unsaid, his eyes gazed at Keith lovingly, and a soft frown played on his lips, despite the sweetness of situation. Keith took a deep breath, and gently kissed it away.

The rest of the night was a blur of colours, of sweet words, and of soft jokes. Keith hadn't been this happy in weeks.

  
_Act two, scene five: Light is streaming in through the blinds, casting on two half covered figures cuddled up together in Lance’s bed. Both of them are covered in marks, red hickeys, and pale purple bruises, and clothes have been haphazardly thrown around the room. The figures are sleeping peacefully. Keith his blissfully unaware he's just another fling. Things are good._   
_Keith had hit the ground._

_Fade to black._

_End act two._


	3. Act 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy one year anniversary!!! thank you for being patient!! I know it's been a whole year and I am sorry !!!
> 
> Anyway this chapter is extra juicy. I've updated the tags to cover it. Hope you like lesbians doing crime !

_Act three, scene one: the streets between Keith and Lance’s houses. Keith has to walk home. It's a typical walk of shame, though it's not the one night stand he's shameful of._

Keith left before Lance woke up. He had work due in like, an hour, so it couldn't be helped. He left a note, though, with his phone number, to make himself seem less rude.  
He thought about this _thing_ they had. It all seemed so backwards. Lance barely even knew him, and Keith was already in love. But that was fine. They'd see each other again, right? It would all be okay. They'd get to know each other. They'd become something serious.

Maybe it was wishful thinking.  
He pushed the thoughts aside, turning them to an  
He scratched his neck. He should have done more work. The guys he was working for seemed so sketchy. It was likely they were criminals. They might be able to track Keith down, and hurt him, maybe even kill him.  
Once again, pushed the thoughts aside. He'd make an excuse to Pidge--  
Or you know, Pidge would get to him first. He looked down at the, watching their face get progressively more pissed off. “Keith, where the fuck were you? We were supposed to go out for drinks. Were you--- oh my god, you've had sex!”  
“I have not!”  
“Why else would you ditch?”  
“Maybe my--”  
“You were with Lance!”  
Keith blinked. “What. How did-- how did you even figure that out…?”  
She crossed her arms, smirking smugly. “You're wearing his shirt.”  
Shit. She was right. Keith looked down, covering his face. “Oh my god. Pidge, I'm so sorry.”  
She was justifiably angry. “You should be! C'mon, dude, bros before…Bros before getting fucked!”  
“Pidge! Language! Jeez…”  
“Friends before fucks!” She shouted, tone more teasing than anything.  
Keith covered her mouth. “You stop that!”  
She bit his hand, storming away.  
She could be such a child, but Keith understood she was angry. This wasn’t high school tech, this wasn’t game programming, this wasn’t something fun. This was serious. Dead serious. They were dealing with likely criminals, and playing with lives.

Pidge was right.  
Keith had to stop being selfish and start focusing.

  
_Act Three, scene two: Lance's bedroom. He's closed the blinds, and turned the lights off, and is lying face down on the bed._

_So, Lance was lamenting._  
_He usually lamented by lying on the couch in his wild pyjamas, whining to Hunk and sipping grape juice that looked like wine._  
_Not this time. When he woke up today, the scent of Keith still in the mattress, he could barely motivate himself to walk to the blinds. He just wanted complete darkness, to lie awake and stare at the empty spot in his bed, reliving the events of last night._  
_It was a blur, all of it, faint memories of their lips colliding and their bodies together._  
_Remembering it now made him feel sick._  
_Keith was so cute, and tough, and kind. He was the kind of person you date slowly, fall in love with after time, wait until the third date. He was the kind of person you wanted to come home to, or have come home to you, so you could hold each other, and cook together and poke fun at each other's lack of ability to cook._

He intended for Keith to be a fling, but now he felt terrible. That wasn't what he deserved.

He planned to fall in love so soon, with someone he probably wouldn't ever call again.

He never planned to fall in love with another man. He couldn't see a clear future where him and Keith could be happy together, a perfect couple.

Maybe Lance had never planned to fall in love at all.

Dang, why did the gods hate him? 

  
_Act three, scene three: Four figures sit around the table in a cheap apartment. The lights are off, as one demanded, for a more menacing atmosphere. The only source of light is the street light outside and an old laptop, the rain casting shadows on the walls._

As Narti rolled her dice around in a cup, and Zethrid tinkered with a weapon, Acxa typed furiously, her burner email burning up with the anger she filled into the sentence. The woman in her lap rubbed her shoulder in an attempt to calm her down, though in this case, it was futile. Not even her Ezor could help her now.

She wanted one thing: to locate her family and find her mother, to make sure she was safe, though apparently even that was too much to ask of the hackers that they were paying. How hard could it be to find one nameless woman on a plane so vast and endless, the title “world wide web” doesn't even seem to do it justice.  
Okay, maybe it would be a little hard, but the hackers had provided their own deadline.  
It was now three days past that, and nothing had been done.

“Close the laptop, A,” Ezor whined, trying to shut it on her hands. Axca truly loved her girlfriends, but this one had a nasty trait of constant childishness. It could be cute, when Acxa wasn't livid.  
She closed her computer, facing her team with a blank expression.

“Enough fucking around. We have to do this, with my mother or without.”

She wasn't the kind to yell when angry. Other’s angers were hot, making those around them sweat, and everything they touch turn into a disastrous flame.  
Axca’s was ice cold, freezing those around her and preserving each one of her surroundings in a glass frost, those near her unable and unwilling to move, stuck listening to her voice.

The only one who didn't seen affected by her toxic glare was Narti, which made sense, as she'd been blind ever since she was a child, and acid was thrown in her eyes. She responded to the cold tone in her voice, body going rigid as she listened.  
‘But we need her information. Or else, it is just a goose chase, with more death,’ Narti signed, a small snarl on her lips. She probably had the strongest sense of justice of their crew, even if it didn't align with the law’s. At all. ‘We do not need that.’  
She rolled her dice across the table, the braille showing an eight on one, and a five on the other.  
Thirteen.  
Just what they needed, a prophecy given by dungeons and dragons dice.  
The universe was pummeling Acxa with THIS WILL NOT GO WELL, and in response she was bravely covering her ears and carrying on.

And everyone else knew that. They could argue, but this girl was devoted to her damn goal, no matter what, or _who_ , got in her way. 

  
_Draw curtain._

_End act two._


End file.
